


The Loser You See

by opalescentheart



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentheart/pseuds/opalescentheart
Summary: I present you the Gotham High School!AU no one asked for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately I couldn’t fit in all the characters into this chapter, but if people want more of this, I will definitely write more.
> 
> Rated PG-13, warnings for severe bullying

“And what exactly is _that_ supposed to be?” Oswald asks the surly-looking lunch lady after she’s dumped something indefinable onto his tray.

“Lunch,” she states with a blank expression, before averting her eyes and focusing on the next student in line behind him.

“Thanks a lot,” Oswald scoffs before walking off with a scowl on his face.

His stomach gives a small grumble as if to lament the fact it would most likely - _no definitely_ \- stay empty until Oswald is getting back home in the afternoon.

As he’s on his way to find a quiet and sheltered place to sit, Oswald hears a booming voice calling out to him, breaking through the loud chatter of the other students like a thunder.

“Hey! Hey Cobblepot!”

Oswald’s heart drops. _No. Not again._ His whole body is stiff, almost frozen as he slowly turns around, spotting a familiar square-built jock.

“What is it, Butch?” Oswald nearly spits the name out, gripping his tray so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Hey dude, aren’t you supposed to eat fish?” Butch asks, flashing a grin at him. “I mean, penguins _do_ eat fish, right?!”

Butch and his brainless goons erupt into laughter.

Oswald resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Very observant of you, Butch,” he drawls, feigning a confident smile. He wants to add a long list of insults or compliment Butch on the ability to even form such complex thoughts, but he knows it would probably end up in him waking up in the hospital afterwards.

“Hey Penguin, if you want, we can take you to the zoo later after school, so that you can reunite with your family!” Butch continues, grunting out a laugh whilst turning around to get his dose of approval from his pack of idiot friends.

Oswald observes them, a mixture of shame and anger seething low in his belly. He presses his lips together, inhaling sharply through his nose. He tries appear as unfazed as possible at the remark. He can’t even count how many times he’s had to hear these absolutely stupid jokes at this point.

“You’re the ones that belong in the zoo,” Oswald mutters under his breath, green eyes flickering with sheer hatred. He considers just turning his back on them and walking away. However, the last time, this decision did earn him a black eye and an almost broken-nose.

_“Don’t you dare turn your back on me ever again, Penguin!”_

Unfortunately, Butch’s attention averts back to him in that very moment. “But you know what?” the jock says, now looking right back at Oswald with an obnoxious grin. “Not even those animals would want to have you around. _No one_ does. Why don’t you just kill yourself already, dude? Everyone’s waiting for that anyways.”

The mocking laughter that follows cuts right through the air - and through Oswald like a dozen invisible knives.

Yes, that one really hits a spot. _Damn_. Biting his lip, Oswald tries to remain as visibly unfazed as possible, despite the familiar tingly sensation in his nose and the burning in his eyes.

Every single time Oswald tries to get out of these encounters unscarred, he fails. What starts with him rolling his eyes and pretending to be unbothered, always ends with him fighting back tears and the urge to throw up from sheer humiliation mixed with fear.

But maybe that’s it for today? Maybe, Butch has reached his peak of torturing him for this day at least. Oswald’s knees are wobbly as he shifts them a little, preparing himself to hurry away once Butch has officially dismissed him.

“Hey guys, you wanna see him walk like a real penguin?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Oswald has to stifle a groan. _Of course not._

By now, several students have turned their heads, their silent stares weighing down on Oswald’s shoulders and making him feel even smaller.

And more alone.

“Come on, Cobblepot. _Do it._ Show us how a penguin walks!” Butch shouts at him, accompanied by the cheers and whistles of the other jocks.

Oswald’s insides twist, the quick pulse of his heart echoing in his ears. What is he supposed to do now? The muscles in his jaw tremble as he rapidly blinks back tears. Oswald _wants_ to defy. So badly.

But the last time he’s done so, Butch had threatened him with a knife to his throat.

“Hey!” Butch’s voice booms, making even more heads turn. “Are you deaf? Walk, Penguin!”

Really, Oswald can no longer bear the shame of coming home with bruises and ripped clothes. His mom is already going through enough.

So, just like every other day, Oswald swallows his pride.

 

His cheeks are burning as he drops his head in defeat. Holding his tray with shaking hands, he slowly turns both of his feet outward. When he takes the first humiliating step, a single tear rolls down his cheek, and more follow as he begins to waddle around.

He hates crying, hates showing weakness. But in the end, the shame weighing down on him is too much to handle.

It’s pointless trying to drown out the roaring laughter echoing in the cafeteria, it’s so loud that it’s ringing in his ears. Oswald is sure that some students have even taken their phones out by now and are recording him, already snapchatting this most recent display of his ongoing humiliation to their friends.

“Stop it!” a sharp female voice cuts through the air, silencing the room within seconds.

Oswald lifts his head, not even bothering to hide his tear-streaked face.

It’s his music teacher, Ms. Mooney.

He almost drops his tray, relief washing over him so quick he can barely comprehend it.

It’s quiet besides the sounds of hushed whispers and the clicking of heels against the floor.

“What is going on in here?” Ms. Mooney almost snarls, crossing her arms as she comes to a stop before Butch, who has seemingly shrunk a size or two in the meantime.

“Uh, we just - we just had some fun,” the jock stammers, squirming in his seat.

“Oh really,” she drawls, cocking an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem like that much fun for _him_ ,” she says with a nod to Oswald, who just blinks and sniffles in response.

Beads of sweat are beginning to form Butch’s forehead, his round face turning pink - and Oswald thinks of how much he’s resembling a pink marshmallow. “I- um, didn’t know-”

“Oh, _please_ , Mr. Gilzean,” Ms. Mooney interrupts him sharply, pursing her lips and glaring at the boy with a reproachful look. “You were very well-aware of what you were doing to Mr. Cobblepot here.”

Butch furrows his brows, pressing his lips to a thin line as his face grows even more red.

It’s worth admiring, Oswald thinks with a faint smile tugging on his lips. Despite being a rather petite woman, Ms. Mooney _always_ owns the scene, filling up the room with an almost overbearing and intimidating presence.

“I expect to see you in my classroom after your lessons are over for today, Mr. Gilzean.”

At this, Butch’s eyes grow wide. “But I got football practice!” he replies, sounding like a petulant child before seeming to remember _whom_ he’s talking to. “Uh, I mean,” he clears his throat, shifting in his seat, before sputtering out a quick, “I will be there, Ms. Mooney.”

“Good. And don’t be late,” she says, an unspoken warning lingering behind her words.

Oswald watches the whole scene in awe, feeling a little light-headed even. Much to his luck, everyone else seems to have averted their focus back to their lunch by now, faint chatter slowly filling the halls of the cafeteria again.

 

Ms. Mooney walks over to him then, her expression immediately turning soft.

Oswald’s heart swells a little, flashing her a quick grateful smile. “Thank you so much, Ms. Mooney.”

For a moment, his teacher just eyes him thoroughly, before speaking in a hushed tone.

“This wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Oswald senses a bit of shame welling up inside of him again.

“Uh, well- I-,” he stammers, looking down. A soft sigh escapes him and he shakes his head. There is no point in lying to her, anyways. “No, it wasn’t,” he utters, staring down and suddenly finding himself oddly fascinated by the texture of that weird mushy pile that’s supposed to be his lunch for today.

“ _Oswald_ ,” Ms Mooney says, placing an arm on his arm, causing him to lift his head back up again. “You know you can report him to the principal if he’s bullying you.”

Nibbling at his bottom lip, Oswald glances around nervously, suddenly afraid someone might eavesdrop on their conversation.

After all, Butch has threatened to kill him should he ever dare reporting him to the principal.

The fine hairs on his neck stand up at the memory of that particular threat. So Oswald just shakes his head, feigning a smile. “I’ll be fine, Ms. Mooney. Thank you. Besides, I think you catching him red-handed today left _quite_ the impression on him,” he says, huffing out a short laugh.

Ms. Mooney just quirks an eyebrow, pursing her lips. “You know it was sheer luck I caught him today. Next time, I might not be around.”

She’s right. Oswald knows that. Of course, he does. He usually isn’t that lucky to have a teacher around when Butch and his goons jumps on him. Or if they are, they just don’t care.

Well, except for Ms. Mooney, obviously.

So, today’s been a rare exception.

Ms. Mooney gives his arm a little squeeze. “All I can say is that you should really stop sticking to yourself, boy. Go and find some friends. It will be good for you.”

Oswald is almost glad his stomach grumbles again in that moment, giving him an excuse to quickly change the topic.

“I guess, I should...,” he nods to the mushy brown pile on his tray, “...eat.”

Ms. Mooney grimaces a little at the sight of what’s on his tray, shooting him a pitiful smile. “Alright then. You know where to find me, when you want to talk. Now do me a favor and go sit with that boy over there. Like I said, make some friends.”

Oswald blinks, turning his head to where his teacher is looking.

There he sees him: Edward Nygma.

The one single person who’s actually even further down the bottom of the social food-chain at their school.

No fucking way.

However, there really is no way he can deny Ms. Mooney’s request, especially not when she’s standing mere feet away from him, her piercing eyes boring into him.

“Go,” she insists again, giving him a gentle push this time.

So, Oswald swallows his pride again, for the second time today.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Laura - amemorymaze.tumblr.com - for beta reading! 
> 
> You can also find me @robinllordtaylor.tumblr.com ♥︎


End file.
